A Wayward Walk
by mizzu.bodo
Summary: The first chapter of Pines, introducing a new female character to the Wayward setting.


Chapter 1

She lay still in the bed awakening to the monotonous sound. The noise was rhythmic in her ears and her chest _. Life she thought, I am still alive_. The air was stale and smelt faintly like ammonia. A sharp pain like she had never experienced before lurched through her body as she sat up and inhaled. Her eyes resisted to open as she touched her hand to her face, inflamed and tender the agony radiated between her fingers and cheek making it impossible to identify the source of the pain. The fluorescent lights pulsed overhead playing tricks on her eyes as she tried to adjust to her surroundings. Glancing around she noted the machines and tubes she was connected to, though not by choice. Everything in the single room was pristine. She donned a blue hospital gown with floral micro print. Her clothes were folded neatly on the side table and her red shoes rested on the impeccably clean white linoleum floor. Disconnecting herself from the devices and heaving her body to the edge of the bed, she attempted to stand. The cold floor below her feet sent shivers up her spine. Her knees buckled under the weight forcing her to grab the bed rail in a desperate effort to prevent further injury to her already battered body. The second attempt to stand proved more successful, unsteady but upright. She wavered over to her clothes. Pulling on her dark jeans, white shirt and khaki utility jacket proved to be more daunting than expected. Jolts of pain seared through her body as she struggled to place her limbs in the openings. Sliding her feet into her shoes was no effort, they made her feel like she was ready, but for what she was wasn't sure.

The light was blinding as she emerged onto the sidewalk. The sun illuminated the vibrant world around her. The grass was electric green, perfectly trimmed, not a weed in sight, it flowed seamlessly into the towering pines that sheltered a stream. Crystal water moved swiftly over rocks and boulders in the channel producing white caps as they came in contact with one another. Beyond the river a cliff rose thousands of feet linking the pine tops with the brilliant sky. Shrubs and little pines were scattered among the ledges and faint clusters of alpine flowers gave color to an otherwise bland rock face.

She shuffled forward favouring her right leg to get a better view of the street. Not another soul around. To her left a park, the metal swing set glimmering in the light as the sweet air swayed them back and forth. To her right, rows of Victorian houses separated by white picket fences. A densely populated town nestled in the valley below could be seen about a mile beyond. The cliff walls enclosed her on all sides, brown rocks banded with red, merged into white as snow dusted the highest peaks.

No ID. No money. No keys. No phone.

The Swiss Army knife her father had given her rested in her pocket. It at best offered her a false sense of security. Slowly she set forward allowing herself to take in the surroundings. By the time she reached the fifth house she was more alert and confused than ever. New areas of pain arose on her body slowing her pace down. This world was foreign to her, she could not comprehend her surroundings. The truth was hovering just beyond her subconscious, inches from her grasp.

Each house she passed was pristine, fresh coats of paint made each one more extravagant than the last. Every yard filled with a multitude of colors by fruits, vegetables and flowers. At the front gate of every home sat a black mail box, white names were stenciled on the side marking each household. _Where is my home?_ she thought. Pressing on for three more block she crossed Main and Sixth Street. A shaded bench was a blessing for her aching body. Breathing in slowly, her eyes fluttered desperately searched for something familiar up and down the street. A pharmacy, a café and a three-story building next to the café with a sign reading:

WAYWARD PINES HOTEL

The smell of coffee wafted in the air, rich, fresh and dark. She headed for the Steaming Bean. Useless but one thing she knew for certain was she craved a good cup of coffee. One tiny piece to the puzzle she was trying to unravel. Pulling open the screen door she walked into the small quaint shop. She could instantly tell their coffee was going to be delicious. The bar was ladened with espresso machines, grinders, bottles of flavour shots and mugs. Two stools were occupied. Sofas and chairs lined the opposite wall and charming tables with mismatched table cloths were dotted around the room. At the end of the room stood a book shelf, home to worn paperbacks and a few games. Local artwork featured an expressionless woman in altered poses, haunting the walls with her deep black eyes.

She approached the bar.

When a twenty-something barista with a sandy blond crew cut finally noticed her, his blue eyes lost their sparkle.

 _Does he know who I am?_

The mirror behind the bar caught her attention, her appearance was less than flattering. This must have been why he reacted the way he did. Masking her face were marks of purple and red, an explanation for the tenderness she felt prior, her chestnut hair tangled and bushy, her body gaunt and lanky in the clothes; a sight for sore eyes

 _What the heck happened to me?_

"What can I get for you?" asked the barista

Knowing she didn't have a penny to her name she knew the option of coffee was off the table. Leaning over the bar she asked:

"Do you know me?"

"Pardon?"

"Do you recognize me? Do I come here often?"

The barista shook his head and then said "I don't think I have seen you before, and you definitely are not a regular."

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure."

"Where is this?"

"You don't know where you are?"

She hesitated feeling completely vulnerable and not wanting to admit such an unfathomable truth, she shook her head noticing the look of disbelief on the baristas face.

"I'm not messing with you," she said.

"This is Wayward Pines, Idaho. What happened to your face?"


End file.
